


Tomorrow Morning When You Wake Up

by Puppetqueen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 13:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16430084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppetqueen/pseuds/Puppetqueen
Summary: Jongin is a dancer and that's all he does. He can't- he doesn't do more than that.And because he hates these kinds of propositions, he says no even before Junmyeon can finish the request.





	Tomorrow Morning When You Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is set in some weird Phantom of the Opera-esque time period, but without any phantoms. Or operas for that matter. But still with that general vibe. 
> 
> Self-betaed so any glaringly obvious booboos are a fault of my own. Feel free to let me know.

It’s Jongin who’s approached first. 

And because he hates these kinds of propositions, he says no even before Junmyeon can finish the request. 

“I’m a dancer, hyung. I dance and that’s  _ all _ I do. I don’t- I don’t want to do anything more than that.” He fights to keep his voice from wavering while staring Junmyeon down, nerves apparent in the way his fingers tremble where he hides them behind his back. 

“I know, Jongin-ah,” Junmyeon sighs heavily, running his hands through his hair. “I just thought I’d ask. I know things have been a little tight for you at home what with your father…” the older man trails off and an uncomfortable beat of silence passes before he clears his throat, continuing. “It’s good money and he won’t touch you. He just wants to watch, maybe direct you a little. There’ll be security right outside the door. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“No,” Jongin shakes his head adamantly. “Thank you, but no.”

“All right, well,” Junmyeon says with another sigh, leaning back into the cushions of his desk chair. “I figured you’d say no, but I thought I’d put it out there. Anyway, good show tonight. You danced beautifully, as always.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Jongin replies, ducking his head both in embarrassment and relief. “And I know you’re just looking out for me. I just- I can’t. I’m not- I don’t-”

Junmyeon cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “You don’t need to explain. I understand. And you know I hate that this is necessary at all. I’d pay you more if I could but…” Junmyeon trails off again, a heavy frown marring his handsome face, making him look much older than his thirty years. “The  _ Elyxion _ has seen better days.”

“I know, hyung. You’re just trying to help,” Jongin says, wanting to reach out to the older man who, in some ways helped raise him more than the man he called ‘father’. But his hands stay trembling, gripping the back of his shirt. “Thank you and- I’m sorry.”

He’s waved away again with a strained smile and another sigh. “You must be tired. Get some rest. And tell Sehun to come in when you step out.”

At the mention of his friend, Jongin pauses before nodding and heading for the door. “Good night, hyung.”

Sehun is leaning against the wall, just outside the doorway when Jongin exits. The casual stance contradicts the look on his face, his signature scowl accompanied by hair damp with sweat and exertion. He’s thrown on a wrinkled shirt and a different pair of trousers than the ones he’d danced in. Sehun looks tired and grumpy, like this is the last place he wants to be. It probably is, considering it’s past midnight and they’ve both danced for most of the evening.

“He wants to see you,” Jongin murmurs when he gets closer. 

“I know.” Sehun doesn’t move from his position against the wall, but his nose wrinkles ever so slightly. 

“You aren’t going to ask what for?”

Sehun is quiet for a moment before straightening, throwing Jongin an unimpressed look. “I know what for.” Suddenly his eyes soften and he reaches for Jongin’s hand, fingers squeezing briefly before heading for Junmyeon’s office. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Jongin stands frozen in the hallway far longer than he’ll ever admit. 

That night, Sehun doesn’t come back to the room they share and Jongin- 

Jongin doesn’t sleep. 

 

—

 

From then on it becomes a routine. 

Every night they dance and dance for an audience, catching glimpses of each other between acts, living and breathing for those fleeting moments beneath the spotlight and applause. It’s exhilarating and scary, but also addictive, their need. It’s a need for recognition, for attention, for love. Jongin dreams of a bigger stage in his moments of weakness, dreams of a better future, what could have been had his father not gambled their family name into debt. If his mother was stronger, his little sisters not so young; if he was good at anything more useful than being a slave to the music and the rhythm of his body. 

He keeps his moments of weakness to a minimum through sheer force of will, exhausting his body so his mind is too tired to dwell on things he cannot change. And sometimes, when the exhaustion isn’t enough Jongin gives in by rolling out of his bed and slipping beneath the covers of Sehun’s just a few feet away. On nights like that there is only silence; Jongin is too shy or too embarrassed for words and Sehun doesn’t judge. Just holds him close, limbs tangled together in a bed too small for either of their broad shoulders and tall frames. On nights like that, Sehun is enough to keep Jongin’s demons at bay. 

Except these days, Sehun doesn’t come to bed anymore - at least not while Jongin is awake. He disappears for long hours at a time after rehearsals or a performance and doesn’t come back till dawn is just over the horizon, smelling like musk and sex, fumbling around, trying not to make too much noise. More often than not, Jongin wakes to the sound of coins clinking against glass, additions being made to their little jar of savings tucked away in the closet. Additions that should be difficult to make considering their meager wages, but Jongin’s had to learn to ignore where the extra coins come from.

One night, after a few weeks of this new routine, Jongin gives in to the temptation of Sehun’s bed - and for once he’s actually there. The blankets are thin but plentiful, the scent surrounding him familiar even if Sehun’s presence is unexpected, but it’s enough to ease Jongin’s inner turmoil. Sehun slips in behind him, wordless but groaning, limbs stiff from overuse. They’re both exhausted, the dance master pushing them hard to learn new choreography. There are rumors of a rich noble frequenting their audience and they must impress him. If they pique his interest enough, their little theater house could benefit from his patronage.

By unanimous, unspoken understanding, Jongin is the best dancer in the troupe, with Sehun not far behind. The roles they’ve been given in the new production has pushed them to their limits and Jongin can only handle the mental and physical stress for so long. He doesn’t hesitate to turn around and pull Sehun in closer, tucking himself under the younger man’s chin. Sehun’s arms cover him automatically, the rest of their limbs slotting into place and  _ finally _ Jongin can feel himself relax. He just waits for his mind to follow. 

“What’s it like?” he whispers into the collar of Sehun’s sleep shirt when they’re comfortable. “After the shows when you-”   _ disappear and don’t come back till morning.  _

Sehun doesn’t answer for a long time, and Jongin would believe he was asleep if the arms around him weren’t so tense, if the beating of Sehun’s heart underneath his palm didn’t stutter. Jongin waits, barely breathing.

“It’s...easy,” he says after a moment, the words so quiet Jongin has to strain to hear him. He tries to move so he can hear more clearly, but Sehun’s arms lock around him and he can’t. Jongin curls fists into the fabric of Sehun’s shirt instead while he listens. “We go into one of the upstairs sitting rooms and there’s just a bed and a couch. He doesn’t touch me. Just sits on the couch and watches. Asks me to...pleasure myself.”

Jongin’s eyes widen at the confession, body stiffening in Sehun’s arms, but waits for him to continue. 

“Sometimes, he tells me what to do,” Sehun starts again, quiet, so quiet Jongin holds his breath for fear that he might miss something. “Tells me when to stop if I come too close to release, or to keep going even after I’ve finished. I’ve offered to return the favor, but he just- he says he just likes to watch. That seeing me enjoy myself is enough for him.” Sehun pauses then, as if he, too, didn’t understand. “He asks me to use...things sometimes. Like oil and...toys he calls them. They- uh,” he clears his throat abruptly, “They feel good. To use.”

“Oh-” Jongin says intelligently when Sehun doesn’t continue and the silence between them grows. “Um. He’s the same one I think. Junmyeon hyung- he asked me, too.”

He feels Sehun nod above him. “I know. He- the man, he asked me to keep his name a secret - he told me he asked for you too. That you said no.”

It’s Jongin’s turn to nod. “I always say no.”

Sehun hums in acknowledgement. “He talks about you sometimes. He’s seen a few of our performances and says he's never seen anyone dance like you. He was disappointed when you said no. Said uh-” Jongin can physically feel Sehun’s hesitation, the arms holding him going tense once again. “He...would have liked to see us together.”

This time, when Jongin moves to pull away, Sehun lets him. Jongin leans up on an elbow to see what he can of Sehun’s face in the sparse moonlight coming in from their small window. Sehun watches his with eyes unreadable in the darkness. Jongin lifts a hand and rests fingertips on the side of his face; the skin is warm, almost too warm under his palm. Sehun must be blushing. 

Jongin wishes he could see it in the daylight, Sehun’s flushed cheeks and the look in his eyes. It’s not an expression he sees often, the younger man known for being stoic and ambivalent most of the time except for when he’s on stage. Jongin can’t help the warmth that curls in his chest at seeing Sehun like this, the privilege of maybe being the _only_ one to see him like this.

“What did you say to him?” Jongin asks, pushing the hair back from Sehun’s eyes. He’s so beautiful, Jongin can't help but think. So handsome but also beautiful with his pale skin and dark eyes, lashes long enough to cast shadows on his cheeks even with only the weak light of the moon to illuminate the room. His skin is soft and smooth where Jongin’s fingers trace his ears and jawline. 

A hand reaches up to wrap gently around Jongin’s wrist, halting his questing fingers. “I agreed with him,” Sehun murmurs, eyes flicking between Jongin’s and his mouth. “I said it was a shame you said no.”

Jongin’s breath leaves him in a  _ whoosh _ at the confession, leaning forward almost against his own volition to press their lips together. It’s a sweet, chaste kiss, but one that has his heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears. Sehun kisses back tentatively, almost as if he didn’t know how, but he learns quickly enough the best way to slot their mouths to have Jongin groaning against him. They move instinctively together, limbs rearranging themselves in the most comfortable, convenient way to keep each other close. Jongin ends up sprawled over Sehun’s lap, the younger gasping when Jongin uses us hips to press Sehun further into the bed. He does it again, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into Sehun’s mouth. At the swipe of his tongue, Sehun moans, hands pressing bruises into Jongin’s hips to still him. 

It’s too quick, too soon and Jongin pulls himself away panting, resting his forehead against Sehun’s and acutely aware of the hardness against his left hip, of his own rubbing against Sehun’s thigh. Their sleep pants, though loose, are too thin and conceal nothing. The sheets that had cocooned them lie pooled on the floor between their beds. 

“What was that for?” Sehun asks breathlessly, his hands moving slowly up and down Jongin’s sides. The look on his face is an odd one again, eyes wide and lips puffy with Jongin’s kisses. He looks breathtaking and all Jongin wants to do is kiss him again and again.

So he does, cupping Sehun’s face with his hands and leaving a final, chaste kiss onto the moue of his lips. He doesn’t let the brush of their erections together distract him from keeping the kiss light, leaning back to card fingers through Sehun’s hair. He’s looking confused, eyes searching Jongin’s when he doesn’t reply. Sehun doesn’t ask any more questions when Jongin slides off him to pull him into his own arms instead, resting Sehun’s face into the crook of his neck to hold him close. Jongin kisses the top of his head and whispers, “Tomorrow.”

Sehun lets out a little grumble but doesn’t protest, both silently agreeing to ignore each other’s erections for the moment. And Jongin-

Jongin finally  _ sleeps _ .

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If this feels unfinished, that's because it is. A second part is in the works, but also I really should be writing other things so it'll probably be tabled for a later date. Just be aware of OT3 possibilities ok. IDEK if I'm even strong enough to resist with all the quality teasers and buildup to the upcoming comeback guys. Someone hold me like Sekai hold each other in this fic I can hardly wait. /swoons.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
